The Clocktower Legacy
by Scioneeris
Summary: AU. Kaname is a talented craftsman who creates dolls and brings them to life. One doll is a silver-haired hunter. But when the clocktower legacy disrupts his quiet existence, Kaname will have to act. Will be Yaoi. KxZ/ZxK
1. Prologue : Takuma

**A/N: I have no idea why I'm starting a new fic. LOL. This idea just wouldn't leave me alone and I can see all these wonderful scenes playing out in my head, so here is the first chapter of my new VK fic. It is AU so there will be changes and adjustments and it will be a very slowly developing romance, so there will be couples/pairings in the future. **

**The eventual pairing I have for the end is KanamexZero, so if you do not like M/M, Yaoi or that sort of thing, please read something else. It will however, take a while to come into the story, so I will post a warning at the top of the chapters containing more mature content, so you are welcome to read along and skip that, if you like. As you read, take note of the POV hints at the section beginnings, since I can't name the dolls until Kaname does, you'll have to read the title to know who is who. Thanks for reading this long note and I hope you enjoy the story! ^_^  
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**Current Summary: In this AU universe, Kaname Kuran is a pureblooded vampire prince, employed as a talented craftsman with the Clocktower Carpentry Corporation. He can bring his creations to life with his rich pureblood. One doll will be a silver-haired hunter. But his talented hands have been idle lately and when his latest work schedule is delayed for lack of materials, Kaname manages to secure some leftover wood for his own personal use. However, a quiet, peaceful existence is never granted to workmen of the Clocktower, when the famous legacy begins to disrupt Kaname's personal life, he will have to act.  
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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. It is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. ~_^  
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><p><em>Takuma's POV<em>

Is that my master? My creator? The one who will set me free? It's dark and cold and lonely here. I wish for warmth, light and someone to be worthy of the loyalty I feel within my grain. I wish to live. Everything is so calm and quiet, but I'm so tired of it that now it bores me. I wish for things I cannot have and I am nothing more than a block of wood.

I will never be anything other than a block of wood unless someone should see me, see something within me and dare to move forward and call it out. I hear the voices, sometimes I think I can see the faces and I know there are others coming and going. I see the other blocks disappear. I see them reappear before the warehouse can empty.

Somehow, I know, that I will never be chosen.

Never.

But I long for it still.

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><p>Kaname's POV<p>

"What do you mean the shipment is late?" There was a worried tone in the voice of the shivering young man. Joren towered over the receptionist's desk by at least two feet from the standard height and his blue eyes were swirling pools of emotion as his hands clenched into tight fists. "I specifically placed my order and I…" He stammered, turning away. "This is bad, this is very bad." _Kuran will have my head for something I couldn't even control-! _

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir." The receptionist intoned, her gaze never leaving the flashing computer screen. "But it is out of my hands and there is absolutely nothing here that I can do. Would you like to place a new order?" The phone rang and the answered it.

The young man bowed his head, shuffling a few steps backwards. He didn't bother to tell her that reordering wouldn't fix the current situation. He didn't bother to explain that he was from the Clockwork Carpentry Corporation and that her company's mishandling of this order would cause troubles that were well out of his own hands. He didn't bother to mention that the mishap would doubtless affect the very last person he wanted it to.

Joren sighed again, shoulders slumping as he left the fancy receptionist foyer and walked around the giant warehouse to the receiving area at the back docks. He waited to be noticed and then waved one of the workers over. He handed him the paper slip in his hand, a crisp white business card bearing his name, position and status.

It spoke for him when he did not feel like voicing the words aloud.

The worker in the orange hard-hat had immediately gone red in the face. "Ah, Joren-san, eh-"

"Just Joren is fine." The young man smiled. "Do you have any spare blocks in the warehouse that you might be able to spare? I'm afraid one of our craftsman has accompanied me and-"

The red face grew even redder as the workman sputtered for a minute and then nodded. "We have some old blocks way in the back." He admitted, at last. "And I'm not supposed to let customers into the working area without written consent of-"

"Couldn't you make an exception this time?" The new voice belonged to the young man who now stood behind Joren, one pale, thin hand raking through his thick, chocolate curls, russet red eyes piercing directly through the man before him. "You can make an exception, can't you?" He persisted, moving around Joren to arrest the attention of the red-faced man.

"Kaname-sama!" Joren started forward. "I was coming right back and-" He stopped at a raised hand over Kaname's shoulder. He knew the young man well enough by now to know that he rarely used such little gestures and that if he was using it, then he had best pay attention and listen.

The red face was quickly growing rather pale.

"Kaname?" He licked his lips nervously. "Kaname Kuran?"

The bored burgundy gaze bored even deeper into him. "Do you mind?"

The mismatched trio entered the warehouse, with the orange-hard hat worker leading the way. There were tall, shrink-wrapped pallets of wood blocks, slabs and cubes all neatly stacked, with colored paper sheets tacked to the sides, declaring where the merchandise would be shipped. They wove their way through the maze of shrink-wrapped wooden towers.

At the very back corner, they rounded on a shadowed half-pallet of wooden blocks. The worker sheepishly tugged at his plastic hat. "This is kind of like, the uh, last…I mean," He hastily corrected at Kaname's glower. "It's all we've got left. Sometimes single artists come and pick out a block here or so." He gestured towards the leftover stack of dusty wood. "I-fi you just need a few pieces until the shipment comes in, you can take it from here."

One spark of light flickered through Kaname's dark eyes as he surveyed the rejected specimens. "How much?" He asked, after the silence had stretched beyond longer than was possibly polite.

The worker flushed bright red again. "Ah, er-"

"We can put any necessary charges on the company account, yes?" Joren interjected, smoothly. "Thank you for your…assistance. I'll handle the details, if you could show me to—Kaname-sama?"

The hand waved again and Joren felt a faint flush starting at the base of his neck. He turned away, following the worker. Once the paperwork was completed, he'd find some idle hands to help them load it up. The look of intense concentration he'd seen on the young Kuran's face as the first hint of another long stretch for him. The talented craftsman was moody at his best and a downright angel of darkness at his worst. From the brewing furrow in his forehead, Joren knew that Kaname was slowly shifting into one of his moods again.

It would be best to get the genius out of the old warehouse and into his precious workshop. His hands would then be free and his conscience would be too. Sometimes just being near the pureblooded prince was too much for him.

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><p>In the darkened safety of his workshop, Kaname moved about the workspace, setting things up in the way that he usually did. He straightened his tools, blew away invisible dust from his workspace and reached for the carpenter's apron that hung on the rack beside his designer coat. The drapes were pulled shut and the lights were kept low. One lone spotlight illuminated a sturdy block of wood, seven feet by four, a lovely rectangular specimen awaiting his masterful touch.<p>

"Hello." Kaname breathed, he knotted the heavy work apron behind his back and tugged at the neckline. Moving up to the block of wood, he turned his face to the side, pressing his ear to the surface. He listened, eyes half-lidded for a long moment and then he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to the rough surface. "You are going to be mine." He told the block. "And I am going to call you…Takuma." He brushed gentle fingers against the roughened surface. "You are going to be my first."

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><p><em>Takuma's POV<em>

His words thrilled me to the very fibers of my being. His voice was soft like velvet and dark like the blackness that I knew all too well. But when he spoke to me…when he named me…I wanted to cry with happiness.

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><p><strong>~*~*~*Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this first taste. Please review-I love the feedback!~*~*~<strong>


	2. First Doll, First

**A/N: Thank you for the wonderful response to this fic! I find myself now wanting to write furiously to post as many chapters as the holiday weekend will allow. Happy Thanksgiving to my USA readers~! Yes, the eventual pairing is KxZ and ZxK (both ways) and unless otherwise noted, all the characters coming into play from Kaname's workshop start out as wooden dolls that he brings to life. For full disclaimers and summary see first chapter. **

** I hope you enjoy the story! ^_^  
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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. Beware that it is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. ~_^**

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><p>The work was long and tedious.<p>

Kaname took his time.

For the entire first week, he ate, slept and lived in the workshop—a routine he was familiar with, one that brought the faintest sparks of happiness to his life. Work was slow in that Kaname couldn't bear to do anything but take his time. This one he had to be careful with. This one he had to do his best. Of course, he would give his best to everything that came beneath his hand so as long as it was for the right reasons, but this one—this was his first.

He didn't know when exactly he started talking to Takuma, but somehow in the midst of the carving and whittling, he did. The words between him and the lifeless block of wood were exactly that—private words between a creator and his subject.

"I might start sanding tonight." Kaname murmured, checking measurements again with the golden measuring tape that hung around his neck and past his waist. "I think you're almost ready." His fingers ran lightly over the roughened outlines, testing the ridges in the wood. "Yes, I think tonight."

He finished the measuring and then took up a soft bristled brush to clean up the shavings around him. "I should hope you would make yourself useful." He commented. "Very useful. This might tickle." The brush was briskly passed over the entire statue-on-a-pedestal that remained from the once unoriginal block of wood. The result was somewhat easier on the sharp burgundy eyes that stared straight through the wood, it seemed, seeing something else far more different than what was before him.

The sanding began without delay.

Kaname's expert fingers guided the machine in, out and around the rough statue, smoothing the roughened wood into a silky finish. When he was through, the result was a simply stunning wooden figure in the shape of a young man. There were no details yet, just the necessary arms, legs, torso and head.

"Tomorrow." Kaname promised, running his fingers lightly over the formed head. He could already see the gentle eyes, curling hair and sloped nose that would make up the vision dubbed 'Takuma' in his mind. A smile nearly slipped to the forefront, but he pushed it away and undid the heavy work apron. There was an annoying presence he could sense just outside in the hallway. He'd been ignoring it for quite some time now, but there was a different note of worry attached to it this time.

It seemed he would have to make an actual appearance to drive it away.

For the first time in nearly two and a half-weeks, he left the workshop.

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><p><em>TAKUMA'S POV<em>

He was leaving. He promised that he'd come back to me tomorrow, but the moment I saw his slender shoulders pass through the privacy curtain, a sense of loneliness and dread settled into the very grain of my wood. I could see him clearer now. It had been both painful and exhilarating to be under the weight of his talented hands.

A strange kind of torture.

A sweetly agonizing torture as the lovely Kaname had ripped away the old, useless parts of me until he'd reached my very core. Then, he'd begun to gentle, the touch of his hands changing along with the tools as he coaxed me to life from the gray matter around me. I was so relieved when he started talking.

I could listen to his voice for nearly forever. It made being trapped and silent within this wood more bearable than I thought possible. He was special. He was definitely special and he had chosen me. I could not wait to see him—for real.

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><p><em>KANAME'S POV<em>

Kaname stepped outside the workshop feeling a faint twinge in his chest as he turned the lock and then stopped to fish out the keys from his pants pocket and secure the extra locks. Once done, he turned, hands in his pockets, head bowed, a scowl beginning to form on his pale aristocratic features. "Joren?" The name was half-growled out. "I know you're prowling around here, show yourself!"

The young secretary appeared almost at once, a strawberry tinged flush had crept up above the white-collared shirt that was tightly buttoned all the way up his neck. "Kaname-sama." He gave the very slightest of bows as status required.

"Don't 'Kaname-sama' me." Kaname glared at him. "Just because you can't see me doesn't mean you are any less irritating than you really are. What is it that couldn't wait another-"

"Asato Ichijo has come to see you." The words were blurted out in such a hurried fashion that the pink flush grew more pronounced, lending credence to the embarrassed expression that stole over the young man's face. He looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with the russet-eyed pureblood.

"And you tried to tell me this…five times?" Kaname scoffed. "Five times I endured your artless pacing, fear-drenched fluke of courage and-"

"Kaname-sama?" A tall, thin woman stood at an open door several yards down the hallway. Her upper torso was visible and nothing more, save the clipboard in hand. "Asato Ichijo to see you, Joren, make your useless self useful, hm?" With a slight jerk of her head, the door slammed as she disappeared from view.

Kaname's glare softened to a deliberate frown. "Why is he here?"

"Ah, well, uh-"

"Walk and talk!" Kaname brushed past him, not caring to temper the darkened aura beginning to settle around him.

"It seems he has heard you are creating an original."

"Really?"

Joren swallowed. "H-he wishes to offer his…name as a sponsor."

"His name? The Ichijo empire?" Kaname gave a harsh laugh. "Of course he would offer."

"He's waiting in the third conference room."

"And?"

"Kaname-sama?"

"He's waiting in the third conference room and what?" They had reached the door and Kaname stood aside, allowing the secretary to hold it open for him. "Is it the CEO or his pet dog?" He smirked. "Perhaps it's both." Stepping through the doorway, Kaname paused and turned back. He seemed as if he were about to say something, then thought better of it and merely tugged at his shirt collar before turning back and continuing down the gloomy hallway.

Joren stood holding the door until the famed craftsman was out of sight. For a moment longer, he held the door open until his hand trembled and he released it. Subconsciously, one hand raised up and he tugged faintly at the crisp shirt collar then turned and retreated down the hallway. If he was lucky, there would be no more necessary work for him today—he'd rather be useless than useful, there was simply something about being useful that didn't seem to bode well.

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><p><strong>~*~*~Thanks for reading. I've got chapter 3 half done and might get it up tonight, if possible. ^_^ I have to get some plot stuffsgroundwork settled in first, so stick with me here.~*~*~* Leave a comment if you like-I really love the feedback. **


	3. First Doll, Blood Sponsor

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely review/favs/alerts. It has brightened my dreary day more than you can imagine. ^_^ For full disclaimers and summary see first chapter. This chappy is part of the explanation for how dolls come to life. I hope you enjoy the story!  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. Beware that it is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. Most VK characters will make an appearance. ~_^**

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><p>The conference room was tastefully lit with a soft amber glow from the overhead lights. The white lights had been switched off and from the two bottles of blood wine on the oval conference table, Kaname knew the daily meeting had already begun. It wouldn't be the first time he'd arrived late to something like this.<p>

Half of the reason would be Joren's fault and the other half would be someone else's as far as Kaname was concerned. He simply couldn't be bothered in the midst of all of what was going on to take the time to deal with someone like Asato Ichijo.

The elderly vampire oozed of things unpleasant, powerful and dangerous all in the same breath. Kaname had found little reason to keep up appearances after his parent's deaths several years ago. Asato Ichijo had taken him in as an unofficial sponsor, expecting his attempt at artificial kindness to earn him some measure of something in the young pureblood's eyes.

As far as Kaname cared to see it, the old man was foolish, selfish and nightmarish. He was also a chief benefactor as far as Clocktower funding was concerned. He'd claimed it had only been because he was worried that the tower might take advantage of a young pureblood when no one was watching.

Kaname had secretly purchased the second half of the company and done his best to be sure that it could not be traced back to him. He had his father's business sense to thank for that and his mother's intuition where the elder Ichijo was concerned. Currently, both had served him well in their absence due to death.

Asato never came to see him when things were good.

Something must've been wrong.

The tinted glass doors slid open and Kaname stepped inside.

Chairman (and CEO) Kaien Cross turned to see him at once, his face lighting up several watts brighter. "Ah, Kaname, I'm glad you could make it!"

Kaname smiled for him, as was expected, his dark eyes fixed on the older vampire standing on the opposite end of the room. They locked gazes for one silent moment, until the Chairman's smile literally interrupted the moment. "Chairman, Asato." He acknowledged, taking a seat to the right of the head of the table. "I was informed of a sponsorship proposal?"

"There is no need for such formalities, Kaname." Asato smiled, charmingly. "We've known each other quite well now. Why, I just heard that you had finally decided to start your own collection and naturally, I couldn't waste a moment in coming over to verify that at once."

"Of course." Kaname said, smoothly.

"I dropped everything and came straight here." A faint gleam shone in Asato's eyes. "Surely you didn't mean to begin an original without a sponsor or the council's permission?"

"It is hardly what you are making it out to be." Kaname's gaze flickered to the empty glasses on the table, then the half-empty bottle of wine just out of his reach, ending the visual circle with the very slightest of pouts in the Chairman's direction.

The reaction was almost instantaneous. "Ohh, Kaname-kun." The endearment slipped out, drawing a profuse blush. "Ah, Kaname-sama, I mean-" the nervous man hurriedly poured a full, swirling glass of the rich, dark wine and set it before the princely figure. "I-Ichijo has a point. I hadn't realized that you were starting on originals, you didn't say a word!" He accused. "That's not part of company policy. You're supposed to tell me when you feel like doing these sorts of things or it can cause all kinds of trouble! You're lucky I could find such a willing sponsor in such a short time."

"A willing sponsor?" Kaname perked a brow, sliding one slender, pale hand forward, cradling the glass in the palm of his hand. Wickedly dark eyes drilled straight into the smirking ones across the conference table. "Then I am correct in assuming you wish to be a blood sponsor as well?"

Both men gave a start, but Asato recovered quickly, even if his pale face did betray him by paling several shades lighter. "Of course, anything you need." But the hitch in his voice had been his loss.

"I need your blood." Kaname deadpanned. "Yours, not some poor unfortunate soul. This is my first doll as you have noted and only strong blood will do."

"Ah, Kaname….Kaname-sama." Kaien shifted uncomfortably. "We will be grateful for whatever concessions that Mr. Ichijo is willing to give us at this time and-"

"It's quite all right, Cross." Asato's smile was strained and it didn't touch the dark eyes that seemed to be saying more than his mouth possibly ever could have. He'd dug his own well here. "Well played, Kaname." He allowed. "I shall stop tomorrow and you can have-"

"Now is fine." There was no way Kaname would give him time to weaken the blood in his body or otherwise taint it. He wanted it now-where the proof of its strength and clarity could be trusted completely.

"Kaname-!" Kaien protested, looking frantically from one vampire to the next. He was human enough to know that what was happening in the conference room right then was way over his head for common comprehension. He'd have to ask someone about it later. His dusty hunter senses protested as he tried to settle the feeling of discomfort creeping through him. Kaname had come in with the kind of wounded air that literally made people want to flock to him, giving presents and promises of all kinds—no matter the price. The aura hovering around him at the moment was vaguely seductive, charming almost as the devious young pureblood made his request. Kaien knew if those russet eyes were turned to him he had no hope of refusing. The ponytailed man swallowed hard.

Asato had visited in a half-fit and temper of sorts, demanding to see Kaname at once until he'd learned that the precious pureblood prince had locked himself in his workshop for nearly a month—well, a half month at least—he'd then taken care to add daily, morning meetings to his schedule, ending with a plea for the Chairman to force the door and drag the rebellious youth out. Of course, such realities and such fantasies were worlds apart and right now, the reality was staring him down with equal, if not challenge, in the steady dark eyes. Eyes that promised all sorts of things that would never be said aloud. The older vampire swallowed. He'd walked right into this one and the exit was now out of reach. He would have to see this through or feign weakness-and that, he would never do. "Now it is, then."

As if he'd planned it, Kaname calmly reached inside his jacket and drew out a small, peach-colored velvet bundle. He set it on the glossy conference table and unrolled it with the practiced ease that showed he'd done this before.

"No lovely assistants?" Asato watched as he straightened a selection of empty vials and needles. This was progressing much faster than he had expected.

Kaname's lovely head of chocolate hair shook ever so slightly, to answer the question in the negative. The faintest trace of lightness was visible in his dark eyes as he locked gazes once more, this time, a command was clearly visible in them. He wasn't going to move, the other man would have to come forward.

If the Chairman wasn't in the room, Asato never would have turned away from the award cabinet display embedded in the wall and approached the conference table with a dignified air of grace that spoke volumes of the importance of the act about to take place.

"Ah…Kaname,….Ichijo….Kaname!" The flustered Chairman tried and failed to stop the drama that played out before him. He resolved to speak privately to Kaname later.

Asato smiled tightly, the expression never wavering as Kaname inserted the needle in his arm. He wouldn't give in and neither would Kaname. _Curse you, Kuran…_

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><p><strong>~*~*~Thanks for reading!~*~*~*<strong>


	4. First Doll, Finishing Touch

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely review/favs/alerts. It has brightened my dreary day more than you can imagine. ^_^ For full disclaimers and summary see first chapter. This chappy is part of the explanation for how dolls come to life. I hope you enjoy the story!  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. Beware that it is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. Most VK characters will make an appearance. ~_^**

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><p>The workshop was dark and silent when Kaname returned.<p>

He frowned, slightly, taking note of the slightly depressed air. Perhaps there was more to this block of wood than he'd been listening to before. He could hear many of the things coming from it, that had been one of the reasons he'd felt drawn to the neglected specimens in the first place.

The moment he'd run his hands over the blocks, he'd known that he would start right then. His own original line of dolls, his own companions, his own…friends…guards…and perhaps an assistant or two. He'd always been a repairman, known for his ability to heal any injury or mark with his skilled hands. He was always on hand when a new doll was put to life for permanence—and he was there when the cycle began and when it ended.

But this time was different. It had to be.

Those others had always been different—nothing like this, nothing like the one here in front of him. Those had always been strangely lifeless, but this one, this time—the entire truckload he'd found at the warehouse was turning out to even be in his dreams now. The few precious minutes when he'd slipped into dreamland, his mind had been abuzz with all the possibility and he'd seen a face, with a halo of golden hair and rich green eyes the color of pine and life.

_Takuma. _

Yes, Kaname was sure that this was for the best—it just remained a matter of how to get around the issue of blood. But of course, in the face of such excitement, thoughts like that were pushed to the back of his mind for his pureblood self to puzzle over while his talented hands went to work.

_Paint. _

Yes, he'd paint first.

Blood magic could do quite a bit, but Kaname wanted to make his mark as deeply and permanently as he could. This would be his first, after all.

"Takuma." He whispered, donning the work apron and selecting the necessary tools from the array on the workbench. "I'm almost through with you." He murmured, setting to work. "You have a blood sponsor, his name is Asato Ichijo. I suppose that would make you Takuma Ichijo." He smirked. "I intend to keep you though. Perish the thought that you should be at his hands."

Kaname worked in silence for several hours.

He paused only for a break when troublesome Joren stammered and excused his way through the dinner tray that he'd brought. There was an ivory envelope included on the silver tray and Kaname knew the nervous secretary had braved his famous temper solely to deliver the message. The meal was most certainly an afterthought—Joren never thought that far ahead.

With a curt nod, Kaname had taken the tray and shut the door in the young man's face. He didn't care to deal with him any more than he had to. Burgundy eyes flickered briefly over the silver-covered entrees and he set it down on one cleared section of his work counter.

The customary flask of spring water graced one side of the tray, the metal tin of blood tablets resting innocently beside it. Kaname scowled, fiercely, before he emptied the entire container into the flask and swished it for the substances to mix. He drank it with a grimace and opened the ivory envelope.

It was from Asato, declaring that he had looked too thin, pale and haggard that working himself to death was doing no one any favors and that he was required to eat the dinner.

"Required?" Kaname repeated. "You take me for a fool, Ichijo?" His grip on the flask tightened and a faint crack appeared on one corner.

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><p><em>TAKUMA'S POV<em>

He was troubled when he returned. I wasn't quite sure why. I couldn't really see him too well, because he worked on the details below that I couldn't quite put my finger on or my eyes for that matter. I continued to see him in some sort of strange, tortured haze, but perhaps that was the way it would always be.

I don't know.

I did know that when he took a break to answer the door—it was not a very good break.

I must admit I was terrified when I heard him snarl the name "Ichijo." Surely he did not mean me? I don't think I could bear it if his anger was directed towards me. I crave everything he has to offer and yet, his anger scares me. Then again, what am I to be picky?

If I am nothing more than a tool to appease his temper, I should be glad, yes?

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><p><em>KANAME'S POV<em>

He'd slammed the door in the secretary's face once more. It was almost becoming a habit, one that he was loathe to even consider thinking of breaking. With a quiet sigh, he returned to his workbench, flexing tired fingers and willing them to work and continue working.

The silence of the workshop soothed his ruffled temper and Kaname worked quickly, ignoring the cooling dinner tray.

His mind had been focusing on one little issue for his new doll and that had been eyes. Glass-blown eyes were sure to be the best fit and certain to be priceless when magicked. He'd experimented enough to know that sometimes, it was best to help the magic along partway.

A common shortcut among crafters was the absence of such details—such as carving the pieces into existence with a predetermined set of clothes or never deliberately carving out every knuckle and joint.

Kaname was determined to avoid such commoner mistakes.

For once in his existence, he would set a framework for all masterpieces at his hand. He would do this right and he would do it so perfectly that there would never be any doubt that this doll was his!

He didn't finish the eyes until the following day.

But when he did, they were beautiful. A perfect, shimmering shade of green and with just the right hint of black in it. With a smile, Kaname moved to the carved figure.

When he'd finished, the result was startlingly beautiful.

A thrill ran through his fingers as Kaname busily hurried through the rest of the preparations—final carving details, hair—hair dye—and hair scissors, then sculpting putty for additional features.

Yes, Kaname decided, when the work was about done. He did like this very much. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the other blocks of wood. There would surely be a wonderful blur of work to experience and he couldn't wait to get started. Standing back from the masterpiece, he gave a satisfied sigh. There was only one thing left to do.

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><p><strong>~*~*~Thanks for reading! ~*~*~<br>**


	5. First Doll, Takuma Awakens

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely review/favs/alerts. See first chapter for full disclaimers and summary. Sorry for the short chapter. I simply haven't had time to work on this fic and I don't want to just throw out half-done chapters. I hope you enjoy Takuma's awakening. I'm going to bring in one more doll and then the Kiryu Twins (and darling Zero!) will make their appearance. Enjoy the read!  
><strong>

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Vampire Knight Anything, I only lay claim to my original characters, plot bunnies and such. Beware that it is Puppetland/Dollworld, adjustments had to be made. Most VK characters will make an appearance. ~_^**

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><p><em>TAKUMA'S POV<em>

_Pain_.

That was the very first tangible thing I felt when the breath of life passed over me.

I didn't understand what it was at first, because this was a whole new level of feeling that had simply never been before.

Life came, slowly, like a trickle of water that grew with each instance.

Then I felt his hands again and that was all I knew. It was almost as if it were the first time I had been given the pleasure of his touch, even though those same talented hands had carved me into existence. It felt like heaven and the realms that surely were beyond it.

The strange, liquid wetness began to pour through me and suddenly, more pain came with it.

This really hurt.

Far worse pain that I had ever endured blossomed in every splinter of the fabric of my being.

A strange, sad sound filled the air around me and somehow more pain still came before I felt his hands again.

They were soft, warm and firm. Surprisingly, without callouses or even the faintest hint that those gentle hands had ever lifted a finger to do anything but exist.

The floor was cold.

And somehow it seemed closer than before.

The floor.

_Hm._

* * *

><p><em>KANAME'S POV<em>

"Takuma?" Kaname bent his head to the wakening doll at his feet. It had collapsed in slow motion to an awkward sprawled position on the ground where it seemed in awe and confusion of what had just taken place. He caught the blond head in his hands, pressing it gently to his thigh and waiting for the rest of its senses to come together.

It didn't take long.

Shimmering green eyes blinked up at him in wonderment. "…Master." It breathed. Then the hands flexed, clenched and endeavored to pull Kaname closer to him. "Me…Takuma?" The words were hoarse and rusty as if the voice was unfinished.

Kaname allowed the faintest of a smile. "Takuma." He repeated. "Your name is Takuma Ichijo. Your blood sponsor is Asato Ichijo. I am your creator, Kaname Kuran." All pertinent, necessary information was delivered in a handful of short sentences. "Remember this and never forget."

"Yes…Master."

"Kaname." The brunet murmured. "You may call me Kaname." His burgundy eyes flickered the faintest hue of red and he held out a hand. The rich overcoat hanging on the stand in the corner came flying into the pale, outstretched hand. He draped it, gently, around the bare shoulders, his fingers feathering lightly over the pale, creamy skin.

Takuma let himself be covered and helped to his feet. He wobbled, precariously and grabbed Kaname's arm with a death grip that wouldn't loosen just yet. The cool, pale hands supporting him, merely rested atop his own, trembling ones.

"Careful steps." Kaname admonished, guiding him to a stool beside his workbench. "You will not have all your functions straight away, it will take more time."

"Thank you…" A blushing Takuma managed, faintly. He balanced cautiously on the rounded stool, the coat hanging awkwardly around him.

Kaname's look softened and he helped the newborn thread his arms through the necessary sleeves and buttoned it to give a hint of modesty to the new creature. "We'll start your wardrobe tomorrow." He explained, once assured that Takuma would be fine, he turned back to the workbench and began to pack it up. "I won't do anything further for today."

Green eyes blinked innocently at him, tracking every moment. "Why?" The word was formed with some difficulty.

Kaname hesitated. "Not now." He said, at last. "I'll explain later. Just—stay!" He pointed to the stool and made a motion with his hand. The young man blinked at him again. Kaname turned his attention to the dinner tray, hesitating, then grabbing up the cloth napkin and thrusting it towards the empty hands. "Here, hold this for me."

Takuma took the token willingly, holding it in hands that were awkward, but painstakingly careful, as if unsure how much pressure could be trusted to a piece of clean cloth.

Kaname set his things to straights in quick and short order, before he finally stood before the blond boy again. "Shall we?" He extended an arm, careful to keep his smile measured and his aura in check. The arm was accepted and Kaname whisked them out from the workshop and to his personal quarters.

If there was anything he loved about working at the tower—besides working there—it was the clock itself. The rooms at the top were carefully put together with a mass of giant gears, secret doors, passageways and riddles. It was to keep all but the one destined to be a Master Craftsman from stepping over the ancient threshold.

Some said ancient magic held the tower together.

Kaname didn't know. He only remembered spending afternoons in his father's lap, listening to his mother hum as she whittled and carved and watching as his father assembled life before his very eyes.

Thankfully, Takuma's walking was better than some of his other movements and Kaname was pleased to guide him to his personal quarters and then to the bedroom. The transformation process would complete itself later in the night—if he'd done it right—and if that was the case, then Takuma most certainly wouldn't need to 'eat' anything yet.

The pureblood rifled through his neat closet to find a spare set of pajamas and boxers which were immediately gifted to the green-eyed blond. It took a bit of explaining and demonstration before the articles were used as intended. Kaname finally guided the tiring Takuma beneath the covers of his bed.

"…Kaname?" Takuma murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What am I to do now?"

"Sleep." Kaname said, simply. "Tonight you will sleep."

"Sleep, only?" Takuma tried to puzzle out.

Kaname smiled, faintly. "Yes. Tomorrow, everything will make sense."

Those pine-green eyes shimmered at him, filled with trust and absolute innocence. Then, the eyes closed of their own accord and quiet, even breathing was measured out.

Kaname watched him for a moment, then he went about his nightly ablutions. There would be plenty of time to deal with it tomorrow—and if he had completed the process as noted, then there would be very little he would have to explain. Slipping on a pair of silken pajamas, Kaname moved to the small table in the corner of the room.

He'd have to make do with some blood tablets tonight. He wasn't about to make up the missed dinner and most certainly not about to leave Takuma alone—sleeping or not. He quickly popped a few of the small red discs into a tall glass and swirled it with twist of the wrist. The moment the liquid blossomed crimson, he pressed the glass to his lips and guzzled it greedily.

He shouldn't have skipped dinner—he'd have to make a note to start taking better care of himself. Kaname paused in mid-thought and gave a rather undignified snort.

_As if. _

Takuma could make himself useful there.

He yawned and shuffled towards the bed, crawling beneath the covers and turning out the lights with a flicker of his vampiric energy. The warmth radiating from the body beside him drew a weary smile to his face—a genuine one. He settled comfortably close and willed himself to sleep. He'd need it all before morning came.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Takuma's first day and Kaname's second doll coming up in the next chapter! ^_^ <strong>


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